


wag mong subukan demonyo

by bukkunmoonsin (bukkunkun)



Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Based On Buzzfeed Unsolved, Fluff, Ghost Hunters, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Reincarnation, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunmoonsin
Summary: (linticc na walang ganti)Dedicated toK0nandDurchHaliyaon twitter.Andres and José run a show where they do stupid things while looking for ghosts. Andres thinks it's all horseshit, but maybe someone can change his mind?





	wag mong subukan demonyo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DurchVerse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DurchVerse/gifts).



> Again, dedicated to [K0n](https://twitter.com/Konoira_draws) and [DurchHaliya](https://twitter.com/DurchHaliya) on twitter. A big thank you to Durch for coming up with the idea, it's been a while since I wrote something That Isn't The Fucking Mapalad AU so this was a blast! 
> 
> I'm deathly afraid of ghosts ksjldksj but I really wanted to write something for K0n as thanks for watering my bonizal crops. Again, thank you to the both of you for being the spark to this proverbial flame.
> 
> This is also, to date, the most decent author's note I've ever written.

Maybe when people said they should go to Baguio to look for ghosts, Andres should have listened.

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved Philippines, we’re at the Fort Santiago in Manila to investigate the ongoing question—are ghosts real?”

Andres looked right into the camera, and slowly shook his head.

As usual, José ignored him, talking right over his dissent by continuing on about the place they were staying at. He let the shorter man go on to look down the corridor they sat in—during the day, it wasn’t _that_ bad, hell, when he had his trip around Intramuros for his Rizal class—not to be confused with his friend he was working with, _also_ named José Rizal—Fort Santiago was his favourite spot, but at night it felt… _different._

More solemn. Subdued, and sadder, somewhat.

“So tonight, we’re gonna set up a spirit box right in his cell!”

“Right in who’s cell?” Andres blinked, snapping back to focus on the mention of the spirit box, and José pouted at him, holding up that godforsaken little box that had _something_ toss a book at them when they were kneeling together in the UP Diliman College of Education library.

“José Rizal.” José replied, and Andres grinned at him.

“Oh, I didn’t know you could get imprisoned for doing shorty crimes.” He shot back, and his friend gave him a lopsided grin.

“ _Funny._ ” he drawled, but then out of the corner of his vision, Andres saw something blue pass by. He whirled around to look at what it was, but there wasn’t anything there, and when he looked back at José, the young man looked _terrified._ “Please tell me you did that as a joke.”

“Sure did.” Andres lied, and José finally relaxed, turning back to the camera to continue listing their plans, but the taller man looked out into the darkness—

And maybe, just _maybe_ —he could see someone in there, watching them.

 _Putangina,_ why did he think the guy looked a little like Junjun Quintana?

“Okay, Andoy, ready to go?” José grinned at him brightly, and Andres smiled wryly.

“Like I have a choice,” he said, but was the first to rise, already blinking the apparition out of his eyes as he got up. José hurried to follow after him, and together with their little camera crew, packed up for the night.

* * *

They arrived late at Intramuros yesterday—hence, just the brief night to film the introduction, and in the morning, he couldn’t really help himself and the rest of the team when they went on a little splurge to dine at Ilustrado— _twice, may pangkain naman na budget,_  said one of their part-time researchers, a young college student named EJ. Andres almost completely _forgot_ they were going to do a paranormal investigation that evening, too, not when he and José and their other friends had a good time around Intramuros, retracing old PI 100 steps and memories.

“Oh, and here is where I walked!” José said, matching the golden footprints on the ground with his own footsteps, and Andres laughed, shaking his head as he took a video of him doing it.

“You and Rizal have the same shoe size, it’s so weird.” He said flatly, and his friend stuck his tongue out at him. “You sure you weren’t arrested for shorty crimes some few centuries ago?”

“ _Gago,_ ” José laughed, hitting his arm lightly. “Try saying that again when we run into the guy later tonight, I dare you.”

Andres paused at that, and José stopped.

“Um, Andoy?” He asked, and the taller man shook his head.

“I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

Andres gave him a grin, and he messed up José’s perfectly coiffed hair. The smaller man shouted in protest, and Andres pulled away before José could retaliate.

“Doesn’t Rizal look a lot like Junjun Quintana?”

“The hell does _that_ mean?” José laughed, and chased his friend down the cobblestone floors again.

* * *

And, _fuck,_ just like that, it was nighttime again, and Andres found himself sitting with José in Rizal’s cell, staring at a noisy little box that screamed into echoing walls to varying degrees of success.

“You think tonight we’ll prove that ghosts are real?” José grinned at Andres as the spirit box kept going, _and going._

“That remains to be seen.” Andres replied flatly.

So far, that evening, he and José had already locked themselves up in different cells, huddled together in quiet corridors and yelled down ominous staircases to no avail. The worst thing that had happened so far was José freaking out over a pebble that had rolled near to them and Andres ended up carrying him in his arms when he jumped into them.

That was a good, fun time, he thought dryly, but now came the annoying bit.

“Hey there,” José said to the box, as if it could understand them. “I’m José, this is Andres. Could you say our names back to us?”

Andres thought he caught wind of _I Love You Sabado_ among the chaos of the spirit box.

“Did you hear that?” He asked, and José looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

“ _I love you Sabado, pati na rin Linggo,_ ” Andres sang, and José’s expression fell. The taller man burst out laughing, and he shook his head, wiping a tear from his eye. “Shit, now I want Jollibee.”

“Oh, screw you.” José rolled his eyes, and turned back to the box. “Hello? Are we talking to the deceased spirit of my namesake, José Rizal?”

Andres fell quiet, opting to let José get the footage they need for the video.

There wasn’t anything coherent coming out of the box, and José sighed exasperatedly.

“Andoy, you give it a try.”

Andres shrugged, and walked up to the box.

“Hey there, uh, Pepe.” He said casually, and José couldn’t help but stifle a snicker behind his hand. “It’s ya’ boys, Not-You José Rizal, and Not Andres Bonifacio.”

“He’s _totally_ Andres Bonifacio.” José chimed in, and Andres elbowed him lightly, earning him peals of laughter.

“Yeah, I’m _totally_ Andres Bonifacio. Supremo of the Katipunan.” He drawled, “You, uh. Got anything to say?”

Much to their surprise, the box went deathly silent, and Andres and José looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“D-did the batteries die, or something?” Andres _did not stutter,_ thank you very much, but José shook his head.

“They’re brand new.” He replied, “Andoy, what’s—”

“ _I’m sorry._ ” A voice, clear as crystal, rang from the box, and this time there was no denying the way Andres and José held on to each other, wide-eyed in shock. “ _For everything that happened to you, because of me. I am so sorry._ ”

Andres gaped at the box, but then he realised José, in his arms, was shaking—more so than usual. “Pepe?” He asked softly, looking down at his friend, only to realise there were tears rolling down his cheeks, much to José’s surprise, as well. “Wh-what’s—”

“I-I don’t know.” José hiccupped, wiping at his eyes, “I just feel… so _sad._ ”

The spirit box came back to life again, its loud, echoing noises reverberating off the walls, and José and Andres jumped at the suddenness of it all. The two friends gaped at the box for a long moment, before José shook his head and turned it off.

“What happened to listening to the spirit box?” Andres asked, after a long moment of silence, and José simply shook his head, hugging him tight. “P-Pepe?”

“Sorry, I just… let’s just stay like this, for a bit.” José said quietly.

“Hey, what do you—”

“ _Please._ ” José said quietly. “Indulge me.”

There was something… _strange_ in the way José spoke, but Andres couldn’t complain, not when he was already holding him in his arms, and all. Quietly, he settled into a more relaxed hold on the smaller man, sighing deeply as José settled into his arms, holding onto him like it was the last thing he would do in the world.

They stood like that for God knows how long, but when José pulled away, his eyes were dry and there was a placid sort of smile on his face.

“Many thanks.” He said gently, and Andres blinked at him, his heart shooting to his throat when José cupped his cheek in his hand. “I feel… a lot better now.”

“N-nice.” If he could lean forward a little more, he could probably kiss…

José pulled away from him, and Andres didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he tried taking one.

“Let’s keep going. The next reports tell us about a Guardia Sibil walking around the corridors. Let’s see if we can catch him!”

José smiled at him over his shoulder as he left, and Andres could only stare.

Why did he… look like Junjun Quintana, just for that moment there?

A different man’s face flickered over his José’s for just a split second, but it was gone in a blink of an eye.

Andres stood there, numb.

“What… was _that_ all about?”

* * *

They went back to headquarters after that, and it was back to their usual banter when the sun rose again. When they made it back to Buzzfeed Philippines, they passed by the Tasty people— _“Rusca, what’s cookin’?_ ”—already at work, but Andres made a beeline for their workspaces, pulling José along with him.

He sat the confused man down, and looked at him intently.

“Okay, Pepe, I need you to come clean,” he said, and José looked at him worriedly, “What was last night all about?”

“What do you mean?” José asked, and Andres waved his hands exasperatedly.

“The crying. The spirit box. What the _hell?_ ”

“Oh, that.” José looked uncomfortable. “I… to tell you the truth, I don’t know what happened there. I was in this really weird… floaty headspace that I couldn’t get out of, not until we left Intramuros.”

“H-huh?” Andres blinked. “That… that wasn’t…”

“Listen, I know you’re going to think I sound crazy, but I think I got possessed last night.” José wrung his hands nervously. “Oh, my _god._ You don’t think I took home a demon, did you?”

Andres looked at him wryly, and shook his head.

“I think… you took home something _far_ better.”

The lights flickered over their heads—he heard an intern, Joven, yell, “ _Thanks, habagat!_ ”—and José jumped, practically _screaming_ as he dove straight into Andres’s lap.

“Don’t try it, demons!” He yelled, holding Andres’s head close to his thundering chest, and the man couldn’t help but laugh.

Oh, fine. Maybe just this once, he thought.

He could _maybe_ accept ghosts were real, if they let him have moments like these all to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> please consider my sales pitch that rusca would be part of tasty philippines send tweet
> 
> i almost made this a fic alluding to the idea that andoy was a demon because there's jokes about shane being a demon but that would overcomplicate things kljsdklsjdlkj please take this haraught instead. 
> 
> thanks for reading~


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